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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25037539">Dare to Beg</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kei_LS/pseuds/Kei_LS'>Kei_LS</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>DCU (Comics)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Condoms, Grant is a mess, Hook-Up, It only shows in hints and patches, It's Consensual and Safe, Jason Is A Mess, Light Bondage, M/M, One Night Stands, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn, Probably edging too? idk, Safewords, Scars, Swearing, Teasing, Under-negotiated Kink, but probably not sane, i feel like i've never tagged for that before and probably should have, it's just sex guys, probably?</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-07-02</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-07-02</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 09:08:11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>3,468</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25037539</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kei_LS/pseuds/Kei_LS</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Jason has overworked himself, again, and is suffering a growing itch he desperately needs scratched. A little difficult, when it's so hard to relax around the limited options he might have considered and even harder to find someone he doesn't know that both manages to fit his type and not rub him the wrong way. And then of course, there's the scars.</p><p>Grant's got time to kill. And zero obligations to anyone, most days. Getting propositioned and following someone interesting to a seedy motel just seemed like the thing to do. One night is all either of them ever really needed.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Jason Todd/Grant Wilson</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>6</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>85</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Jason Todd Rare Pair Challenge</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Dare to Beg</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">
      <li>For <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/scandalsavage/gifts">scandalsavage</a>.</li>



    </ul><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This was supposed to be a drabble. Like. 500-900 words, maximum. I had to *fight plot away.* Scandal is the worst and everyone should go support them immediately. Fuck.</p><p>Written for Scandal. Who put up with my ambush request for a number and a ship by responding with Grant/Jason.<br/>#8 was 'Begging'</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>"Oh fuck... f-fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck-" Jason chanted. He couldn't catch a breath, felt like he could barely see through the blurry tears and growing dark spots. He twisted, tensed when he felt a warm hand slide up from his navel to his chest, fingers dragging gently along his collarbone. The restraints were minimal, leather cuffs thick but tame and connected to the headboard of the large bed. Not even to each other. His legs are free, which might be the more egregious of mistakes, and he reminded himself that he'd agreed to this. Asked for it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Not begged for it. Not yet.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jason breathed in deep, forced himself to focus and caught on the gleam of blue eyes - for a moment a few shades too familiar before he blinked again and that piercing gaze settled into a face completely removed from any he knew. He'd singled out this guy because he was big, and broad, and for a few questionable minutes looked like he could use that size for something more than looming. It was an illusion; enough for Jason to forget. Sink into the moment between them instead of constantly sorting through every nuanced movement around. It didn't matter that he couldn't actually throw Jason around, or keep him pinned - just that Jason thought he looked like he could.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It had been easier to proposition him than he'd thought. Easy to follow him to a motel. Easy to improvise, just a little, for a shitty setup in a sketchy place. Dark blond hair, dark blue eyes, a slight tan and a whole heap of muscle but not half as much of the heavy boasting Jason expected from a gym rat in New York's messier boroughs.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"There you go again." </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Fuck</span>
  </em>
  <span> but he was good with his hands. Thick fingers, warm, calluses just thick enough to scrape as they press up just behind his balls and drive Jason’s hips up in an uncontrolled lurch. His thumb dug painfully down at the base of Jason’s cock, and Jason felt the shock ride up straight to the clamps on his nipples and force a grunt that peeled out of his throat - rough and painful. He swallowed, dry and scratchy, and winced. His choice for the evening, Mr. Call-me-Grant, hadn’t missed it. There wasn’t a mocking follow-up either, though, and Jason felt something in his shoulders give just a little more. He hadn’t commented on any of the scars that decorated Jason’s body when he’d first taken off his shirt with an expectantly lifted eyebrow, despite the very notable lack of his own.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jason had caught Grant lingering on his chest, one cuff in, and sneered appropriately. His chance for protests and questions had passed long before Jason had put himself on the bed. Grant had flicked his nipple and asked how he felt about clamps. Pinched viciously before Jason could reply, which had elicited a string of cursing and Jason getting hard before his pants could even be ripped off.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It had worked out, though. Every time Jason thought what Grant was doing below his waist was too much, he’d feel a strange weighted tug and his chest would burn and demand his attention, until Grant explored a new sensitive spot and kept his mind jumping. Points to the pseudo-professional, and ill-advised hook-up. They’d gone with the traffic light system - slightly modified, and hadn’t really discussed payment, and both of those were kind of shitty but so was his entire week and-</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Busy, busy,” Grant teased. He had a boyish grin, and faint dimples, and that was about all Jason had time to notice before two fingers curled hard and thick and hot inside of him and rocked. The burn of it took all of his attention, fingers barely slicked - he hissed through it and felt fire lick up his chest and into his cheeks. Grant scissored him roughly, stretched him quick and dirty with shallow tugs that had Jason’s hips twitching down to follow him and rolling back up at the deeper press in. The hand on Jason’s chest wasn’t light. Full contact, palm searing against scar tissue and burning a brand along his senses, Jason rolled his head down to stare at it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>God, wasn’t that a sight.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He hadn’t realized he was sweating. In the low shitty light from the room’s lamps, his skin damn near glistened. The metal of the clamps gleamed a dull, blunted reflection, pinched around two hard dark red nubs and settled on two larger darker rings of skin. They still looked a little wet, and there was a purple ring on his left pec that probably matched the line of Grant’s teeth. Further down, he could see his stomach, abs quivering faintly. Lower, his own dick standing hard and heavy and curved, the tip as angry and red as his nipples and just a little shinier than the rest of him. His thighs were spread, wide, and he wasn’t small but compared to Grant’s thighs he didn’t quite feel </span>
  <em>
    <span>big</span>
  </em>
  <span> either.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Grant was all barrel. Thick thighs, thick arms, thick chest and judging by the large cock, veiny and stiff and </span>
  <em>
    <span>dropping</span>
  </em>
  <span> just from the sheer weight and girth of him, his dick was more than proportional. Jason clutched down on the fingers scraping inside of him, throat clicking as he forced back another groan, and Grant hooked his fingers deep and tugged.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The delicious swoop in his stomach was offset by his gasp, loud and ragged, and he felt a hot collection of saliva slip from the corner of his mouth and slide down his jaw. He twisted his hands, tugged half-heartedly at the cuffs and this time Grant pushed in, ground his palm firmly under Jason’s balls and extended his fingers out to stretch in and down. Jason hadn’t keened. He hadn’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>fucking</span>
  </em>
  <span> keened. But his heels dug into the mattress, thighs spreading wider desperately while he tried to breathe through the sudden sucker punch he felt in his gut. That was better - close to perfect - and he shook and forced a sound he couldn’t qualify from his throat with his next breath.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You didn’t go through all this trouble just to hold out on me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ha, what trouble?” Jason gasped. Grant hadn’t stopped grinning. Leaned over him, in close, and that skittered across his senses like danger for a few moments too long even though all he did was run his fingers quick and rough through Jason’s hair. Sweat slicked, pushed back from his forehead, it felt cool to the touch. Almost nice. Just like the gentling slide of his fingers, following the uncontrolled shift of Jason’s hips to stay maddeningly consistent and easy and kind. “Not what I want,” Jason warned, on the heels of a growl.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No?” Grant chuckled. Something about the sound was off, a little too practiced - measured. Performative. Danger skittered in his hindbrain, again, prickling down his neck with unease he thought was imagined when he made himself look at Grant again. Smiling. Easy. Looming too close and not nearly keyed up enough for having been as hard as Jason practically since this started. For an eternal second, Grant’s eyes look empty. Then he blinks, and there’s interest and heat and Grant’s hand is tugging him firm and hard and perfect against the addition of a third thick finger. Dry, a little painful, and Jason is hot - burning, in fact, but he knew there was more. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Wanted</span>
  </em>
  <span> more.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“F-</span>
  <em>
    <span>fff-</span>
  </em>
  <span>” he rocked his hips, rolled up and planted his feet and snarled breathlessly when Grant’s hands followed. Collapsed down with a grunt and Grant teased silk-soft skin, abandoning his dick much to Jason’s vocal dismay to slide down his thigh. Scratches, slow and deep, Jason could </span>
  <em>
    <span>feel</span>
  </em>
  <span> it. Four rough lines that burned different than the rest of him, colder with the drag through sweat, maybe even bleeding a little. He felt it tingle, felt an echoing buzzing </span>
  <em>
    <span>demand</span>
  </em>
  <span> for attention in the hungry pulse of his cock and clenched down again to get a weaker echo of the fluttery swoop in his stomach at the way his body greedily clutched Grant’s fingers.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Should I ask your color?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You should shut up and get </span>
  <em>
    <span>on-ahaaaah</span>
  </em>
  <span>-” Jason shuddered. A full body, fingers splaying and spine curving, </span>
  <em>
    <span>shudder. </span>
  </em>
  <span>Grant kept feeling him, fingers scraping rough and fast, curling and stretching and </span>
  <em>
    <span>twisting</span>
  </em>
  <span> inside of him in a nerve-shattering wriggle that felt more </span>
  <em>
    <span>weird</span>
  </em>
  <span> than anything else, and Jason had paid too much attention to that and how much progress he could halt by squeezing and grinding down to pay attention to his legs hooking over shoulders until he was getting pent up. Hips pulled off the mattress and knees bending up, diaphragm gradually crushed and vision swimming deliciously again.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You really are bad at this.” Jason hissed, words trapped behind his teeth and from the compression of his lungs. The rest of his complaints died at the firm swipe and slide of Grant’s thumb from his stretched rim to his sack, pressing in just behind it and forcing out a hitching dry string of </span>
  <em>
    <span>sounds</span>
  </em>
  <span>. “Bendy, though. Nice.” Jason stared blankly up at the ceiling, swallowing hard around the thickness of his throat and feeling the tremors start, a phantom shake of his arms and legs. He could feel Grant, hot and slick and foreign, hard and settled heavy along his crack - maybe even just nudging into his own palm with how Grant was fingering him. He ached for it. Wanted to be done with the games, wanted to burn with the thick slide of - right, the-</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Not- raw</span>
  </em>
  <span>,” Jason gasped. Scrapped thoughts together around the skittering aimlessness of his thoughts and glared down - glared up - while Grant waited to lock eyes with him before nodding. It didn’t look like a commitment. Grant barely looked like he was interested in anything but the thin smear of what Jason refused to call precum over the demanding red tip of his dick. “</span>
  <em>
    <span>Hey!</span>
  </em>
  <span>” He bucked - a bad idea that even with the scant inches he managed to move only had him meeting the resistance of Grant’s abruptly unyielding fingers. The slow deliberate rub and punishing </span>
  <em>
    <span>dig</span>
  </em>
  <span> down at Jason’s walls that had him groaning at an embarrassing volume. He tightened his thighs around Grant’s head, and felt another flutter higher up in his chest when Grant gave him a cool look before turning his head to lick a stripe along his inner thigh and bite. Sucked hard and made a wet noise before Jason tensed against his teeth and relaxed again.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You listening?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You want me to wear a condom, princess,” Grant said, and the squeeze of fingers on Jason’s ass at least felt hungry. “I heard you. Now. Know what I want?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He did. Of course he did. Because Jason had </span>
  <em>
    <span>asked</span>
  </em>
  <span> for it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re gonna have to-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Try harder,” Grant interrupted. “Got it.” He pulled his fingers out of Jason without ceremony, and Jason nearly lost the game outright from the abrupt loss. He made sure Jason could see him grab the lube, watched him coat his fingers and felt the warmed liquid drip onto his cock, hissed sharply at the rough slide of fingers against his hole. The breach was faster this time. All hot, wet, easy movement that burned him in the best way, and already he was breathing harder, groaning at the itch only just getting satisfied.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He purred when Grant tore a condom packet open with his teeth, watched and grunted when his attempts to reach the other man were aborted by the cuffs as the condom was rolled onto Jason’s cock, followed quickly by lips sealing around him and sinking further down. It dulled things just enough to make the press of his tongue maddening - feeling the heat and the press but not the texture, any hint of wet came from himself and he ached and cursed again when Grant didn’t seem any more bothered by the roll of Jason’s hips when his mouth was filled with cock than he did without.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Then Grant met his eyes again, and he could see and feel the man start to smirk around his full mouth, and then - </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He lost himself, for a while, under the onslaught of Grant learning every sensitive dip and twitchy patch of skin that’s directly wired to whatever patch of nerves sent feedback to the pleasure center of his brain. Every lingering touch that adds fuel to the fire, every open mouthed kiss that lands somewhere between lust heavy and tender, the hooded stare that met him every time Jason gathered enough will and focus to look.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was hard to take a full breath, to do anything but curl his toes and try to press down against surprisingly strong arms and fail to escape skilled hands for even a moment of respite.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>A one night stand</span>
  </em>
  <span>, he thought muzzily, laugh breathless and a little dazed under the sqlick squelch of Grant’s wet, </span>
  <em>
    <span>wet</span>
  </em>
  <span> fingers fucking him until there’s not even a stretch, just his body greedily trying and failing to lock them in and keep him. </span>
  <em>
    <span>His lover’s never gonna get out of bed.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“God</span>
  </em>
  <span>,” is what he said aloud. Dug his heels into Grant’s back and tried once again to ineffectually pull Grant closer or guide him on top of Jason properly. He was hard, and feverish, chest in unbearably delicious agony and unable to recall the last time Grant had pulled off of his cock to </span>
  <em>
    <span>breathe</span>
  </em>
  <span> while he played with Jason’s hole. Every once in a while, just often enough to remind Jason it existed hungry and waiting, he was lowered to feel Grant’s cock thick and blunt and less dexterous than the wicked press of fingers against his rim.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He stopped breathing every time, hopeful, and it was getting harder to do anything but tug desperately at his restraints when he was denied. Grant lifted off of him, and all Jason could see through his hazy focus was blue eyes darkened by lust and a predatory sort of gratification at the shuddering body splayed beneath him. His lips were red, shiny with saliva and Jason groaned and thought he might cum just from that, hated that he hadn’t gotten to feel that skilled tongue really move him - that Grant had tasted heat and the condom over salt-slick skin and his-</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“God,</span>
  </em>
  <span>” he said again. “Stop.. stop teasing me, shit, just fuck me - </span>
  <em>
    <span>Christ</span>
  </em>
  <span>.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Shitty requests make for shitty rewards,” Grant chimed.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Please</span>
  </em>
  <span>!” Jason groaned, when Grant’s fingers left him completely to settle cool and wet on his hip and he was pulled, rubbed down along Grant’s length and teased but not </span>
  <em>
    <span>entered</span>
  </em>
  <span> and Grant started to look like he was getting comfortable with just rubbing up under Jason’s balls. It was too much. It was maddening. The man was a </span>
  <em>
    <span>bastard</span>
  </em>
  <span> and Jason hadn’t ever needed anything else half as much as he wanted Grant to just slam in home and fuck him out. “Please-” he begged. “Please, Grant, fuck - fuck me, I want it. God, I want you inside me. I’m aching, I can’t, I want to get filled and </span>
  <em>
    <span>shit</span>
  </em>
  <span>-” he felt big. Just slotting against him, just with Grant </span>
  <em>
    <span>moving Jason’s his to grind down along his own dick</span>
  </em>
  <span>, he felt big. Too thick for three fingers, even ones as strong as Grant’s, to adequately convey.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He didn’t sob. Refused, but his breath hitched dangerously and his voice warbled out of his throat too harshly to be a croon and his eyes felt wet and hot and then Grant was biting down on his chest, teeth sinking into his pec and tongue flattening against a clamp and Jason </span>
  <em>
    <span>keened</span>
  </em>
  <span> for him, </span>
  <em>
    <span>“Please! Please! Grant, I want it! I want - I need!”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>His words devolved to guttural sounds as he got it. Grant pushed into him slowly, firm and thick and </span>
  <em>
    <span>so much more</span>
  </em>
  <span> than his three fingers had promised. It </span>
  <em>
    <span>hurt</span>
  </em>
  <span> even, a painful twinge along his hips and centering on his backside while Grant just gradually sank into him. Jason’s legs fell to the sides, wide and splayed, and even when he tried he couldn’t push against the too-strong grip on his hips and gain any ground or traction. He couldn’t shift them to take more, or even change the angle, and plead again mindlessly - a sea of words that held no weight  beyond being an outlet for the need that skittered through him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Grant tugged harshly at the clamp with his teeth, scraping it off of Jason in a blooming burn that was both soothed and worsened with Grant’s tongue. Ten years later, he pushed the final inch in, tongue dragging a long swipe up to his collarbone and then mouthing to his shoulder as he just stayed like that. Jason shuddered and moaned and felt full and heavy with Grant’s cock inside him; Grant’s strongest tell that he was affected at all outside of the occasional twitch deep inside of Jason the deliberately even breaths between them.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jason turned his head, swallowed around another ground and dragged his lips over the shell of Grant’s ear when he found it. Nosed down as he tracked Grant’s breaths and matched them reflexively, purred appreciatively when Grant tilted his head slightly and bared part of his neck to Jason’s teeth. He ran his tongue along salty skin, groaned from his chest when Grant shifted and threatened to split Jason in half just from that small motion, and bit down when his tongue prodded and found the fast erratic heartbeat of the man above him.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Not quite so unaffected after all</span>
  </em>
  <span>, Jason thought happily. Then Grant huffed against his shoulder.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Color?” Jason hummed around the patch of skin he’d latched onto and rolled his hips, eyes rolling back and mouth falling open at the obscene thickness, the seam where their bodies connected unbroken while Jason ground himself mindlessly on Grant’s lap. Every inch, every shift, fire and sparks and Jason felt like he’d explode. He could feel it, the high rush of impending orgasm that threatened to crescendo him right on into bliss. It was going to be a good one. His balls </span>
  <em>
    <span>ached</span>
  </em>
  <span> with needy, heavy and tightening with every little roll of his hips and warning pulse of his cock. The condom was still pressed tight, squeezed around him as he leaked into it, whining and drooling. He tossed his head at the first brush of fingers over his chin, and stared unseeingly when he was made to turn it anyway.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dark blue. Hungry. Assessing. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Cold</span>
  </em>
  <span>, something in his brain feared. Flickers of heat breaking up the detachment in infrequent, intoxicating shifts of muscles Jason could catch because he was hyper fixating on the only thing he could </span>
  <em>
    <span>see.</span>
  </em>
  <span> “Color.”</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Blue</span>
  </em>
  <span>,” Jason said mindlessly. Blinked, at the quirked eyebrow. Gulped in too much air and squeezed around Grant again, leg trying and failing to wrap around his waist. “Blue, god, blue as the fucking sea and your </span>
  <em>
    <span>eyes</span>
  </em>
  <span>, go go go go </span>
  <em>
    <span>go.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hm.”</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Please!”</span>
  </em>
  <span> Jason sobbed, while Grant started to drag out of him and he thrashed his head, delirious with teeth gritted at the thought he’d start </span>
  <em>
    <span>over</span>
  </em>
  <span>. Grant snapped his hips forward like Jason had commanded it, punched the breath out of him with his dick and then let Jason’s orgasm follow.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He </span>
  <em>
    <span>trembled</span>
  </em>
  <span> under the force of it, felling the condom and the heavy, encompassing heat of Grant’s hand while it stroked him and smeared his cock under the rubber. Grant pumped him through it, let Jason’s body work around him and didn’t say a fucking word when the tears fell. Waited, until Jason could see again, open mouthed and staring at him, hips shifting in small hungry circles. Then he grinned. Wide. With teeth. Dug his thumbs into Jason’s hips.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That should be enough warm-up,” Grant told him lightly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Held under the man, splayed open and fresh off an orgasm high he hadn’t hit in </span>
  <em>
    <span>years</span>
  </em>
  <span>, Grant fucked him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jason screamed himself hoarse.</span>
</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span>(</span>
  <em>
    <span>“I want you to make me beg,” Jason had purred to the man, pressed against his chest with Grant trapped between him and the motel door. “If you think you can manage that, I mean.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Grant’s hands settled on his hips, easygoing smile unchanged even while Jason manhandled him in a playful show of force.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Beg, huh? How do you feel about screaming? In a mind numbing, pleasure sort of way.” Jason scoffed, bit a full lower lip and tugged it between his teeth, teasing at the button of Grant’s jeans. Popped them open.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“You can try,” he murmured. Let his teeth scrape and bite a little more roughly and at least got the satisfaction of seeing them red and bitten in their ever-present smile.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“I’ll do my very best.”)</span>
  </em>
</p>
  </div></div>
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